


Her Tears

by KurlyFrasier



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Comfort, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Jealous Dean Winchester, Sexual Harassment, sexual assault?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:56:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25384918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KurlyFrasier/pseuds/KurlyFrasier
Summary: Monsters aren't always supernatural creatures. Sometimes they're normal looking, everyday people. When one of those people scare y/n, Sam saves the day with Dean as a witness. But maybe he can be the hero by the end of the night.
Relationships: Dean Winchester & You, Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean Winchester/You
Comments: 6
Kudos: 48





	1. Frenchie Session

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Someone please save me from my terrible summaries! If you get passed it and still read this little fanfic I sincerely thank you for giving me the benefit of the doubt!
> 
> WARNING: There is a gross creeper but technically nothing happens and it doesn't get real intense. But it's definitely sexual harassment...possibly sexual assault?
> 
> ~I do not own Supernatural or its characters

The guy reeked.

And it wasn’t just the beer breath. Ugh, you hated that smell. Worse still, was the dip tucked in his bottom lip, the long greasy hair -seriously, if a man is going to have long hair, keep it clean- not to mention, the B.O. It was like the guy hadn’t showered after weeks of hard labor.

You were desperately trying to move away from him, but he had you trapped against a pool table, your back arching as far away from the creep as you could. All while attempting not to breathe. 

Maybe you could jump on the table and run for it.

“Come on, darlin’. You know you want to,” creeper leaned forward, his hands on either side of you, almost touching your ass.  _ Way  _ too close for comfort. You thought about kicking your leg out, but he had somehow wedged himself between your own. Probably while you were focusing on not breathing.  _ And where were the boys when you needed them!? _

Sam stepped out of the dinky bathroom, quickly surveyed the bar and noticed Dean was getting another round of drinks for the next game of pool. When he looked over by the pool tables he recognized the guy whispering in your ear as the same one Dean was glaring at earlier when he caught the creep staring at you. 

Usually Dean’s glare did the job. 

Apparently the creep took it as a challenge. 

Looking back at Dean and realizing he was in his own world not watching out for you, which was highly unusual, Sam strode in your direction, your face now seemingly drained of blood. His gut told him something was very wrong. More so than the typical crude comments. Those you could handle with ease. 

“Leave the lady alone,” Sam demanded, his voice low in hopes of not making a scene as he pulled the man by the shoulder and out of your bubble. Although, anybody who made you lose color was worth a sore hand in the morning. “She’s not interested."

“Oh yeah,” the guy smirked. “What makes you think that?”

Without pause, Sam did the one thing that would make his brother want to kill him. “‘Cause she’s with me,” he said, wrapping an arm around your waist.

You thought nothing of it. This wasn’t the first time one of the boys rescued you. Not that you usually needed it, but it was still nice. Usually though, it was Dean to the rescue. He always had a thing for damsels in distress. 

“Oh yeah?” The guy spit in his bottle. “Prove it.”

“Prove it?” Sam knew what the guy wanted, but hoped he was wrong. 

“Yeah, kiss her,” he pointed at you. “And I don’t mean a cute peck on the lips. I need passion to be convinced. ‘Cause from what I saw earlier, it was the other guy who was glarin’ at me. Not you.” He shoved a finger in Sam’s chest.

“O-okay,” Sam held up a hand in surrender as he turned to you, sincere apologies staring down at you. Subtly, you nodded in understanding before he cupped your face with one hand while the other at your waist tugged you closer to him. He prayed Dean didn’t see this.

~~~~~~~~~~

They were kissing. 

Dean stopped mid-stride, shocked at what he saw. It took every ounce of willpower not to drop the drinks in his hands and pummel his brother. His  _ brother? Really? _

And not only were they kissing, they were having a full on, make-out, frenchie session with hands all over each other. You didn’t even look disgusted, like you had told Dean one night during a truth-or-dare game; Dean’s desperate attempt at figuring out where he stood with you. He had asked how you would feel if one of them kissed you and you had replied with, “no offense Sam, but I would probably be grossed out if you kissed me. I mean, you’re like my brother. Heck, you are my brother in every aspect that counts.” She never said if she would be disgusted by Dean and he took that as a good sign.

Logically, if it was possible for him to think with a clear head in that moment, Dean would’ve seen the creep from earlier watching not two feet away from you. He would’ve known that Sam was rescuing you. That Sam would  _ never  _ betray him like this. That something had to have happened in order for Sam-  _ his own freakin’ brother _ \- to be kissing you.

But logic and all clear train of thought was out the dimension when he saw you two touching, kissing, rubbing each other. His blood boiling, he turned away from the scene, slammed the drinks down on the bar, and took deep breaths with his eyes closed. 

Except that didn’t help because what he saw was scorched behind his lids.

“Okay, Dean,” he whispered to himself, eyes open, staring down into his glass of whiskey. “They lied. No big deal,” he shrugged and swung back his own glass in one swallow. “So, they like each other. A lot,” he swung back Sam’s. “You can get behind this. You can be happy for them. For y/n. For Sam,” he swung back yours. When he finally turned back around Sam was dragging you by the hand and out of the bar.

“Dammit,” Dean muttered, falling onto the stool behind him as his heart ripped out of his chest.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Do you-”

“Have mouthwash?” You finished Sam’s sentence for him, knowing exactly how he felt about what just happened. 

He nodded.

“Yes.”

“Good,” he slipped his phone out. “I’ll text Dean and we can get outta here.”

“Good plan,” you breathed out, “and thanks for saving me back there. That guy was nasty.”

“No problem,” he smiled. “Just don’t let it happen again.”

You barked out a laugh. “I’ll try not to, buddy.”

“Good,” his smile faded and you knew what he was going to say next. “So, what did he say?”

“Who?” You looked out into the parking lot as if something interesting was happening.

“Y/n…” he gave you a stern look, as if it was as intimidating as Dean’s. Ha!

“Sam,” you stared back. “Nothing okay? It wasn’t a big deal-”

“You were pale-”

“He was just gross and smelly and-and- really gross. That’s all. Okay?”

“Fine,” he huffed. “Here comes Dean.”


	2. Promises

The car ride back to the bunker was eerily quiet. So much so, you worried something was wrong.

“What’s wrong Dean? Mad at us ‘cause you didn’t get a hook-up?” You teased.

“No.”

_ Okay…. _

“I know! You’re upset I beat you at pool,” you tapped his shoulder playfully.

“No,” he shook his head.

“Shall we continue our night at home?” You asked hopefully, ready to forget about the creep and what he promised. You shivered.

“You guys can. I’m goin’ to bed,” Dean answered as he witnessed you shivering through the rearview mirror. “You cold, y/n? Sammy, give her your jacket.”

“My what?”

“Your jacket Sam. She’s cold,” he snapped, unable to look at the traitor. Sam  _ knew  _ what you meant to him. He freaking  _ knew _ . Yet, he kissed you anyway. The memory had him clenching the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white.

“Uh-okay-” Sam started stripping his jacket off.

“I’m not cold, Sam. But thanks,” you gave Dean a sidelong glance and leaned back into your seat. Not sure what his problem was, but more than happy to be in the safety of Baby, even if Dean was acting weird.

Sam knew exactly what Dean’s problem was. He had seen you guys kiss and obviously didn’t know why it even happened. In his state, there was no talking sense into him either. He sighed, Dean was hopeless at times.

~~~~~~~~~~

Once back at the bunker, you practically ran to your room to wash off the creep and the kiss. Not that you didn’t love Sam, but kissing him was the same as kissing your long lost brother; gross and unnecessary. 

Except, maybe, for tonight. 

But never again. 

Hopefully. 

_ Ugh _ .

Sam, wishing he could follow suit, followed his brother down the hall instead.

“Sam, stop following me. I’m going to bed, remember?”

“No you’re not and we both know it, Dean.”

“Look,” Dean spun around. “It’s cool, okay? I get it,” he started back down the hall.

“No, Dean, you don’t-” Sam reached out to grab him.

“I do. Really, I do. She picked you. That’s fine. I’m fine,” he almost shouted.

“That creep was all over her, Dean! You were busy getting drinks when he whispered- I don’t know what- in her ear and she visibly paled,” he paused, letting Dean sink that bit of information in. Taking a deep, calming breath, he continued. “She was scared. I ran over there and told the guy she was with me in hopes of not causing a scene, but-”

“You did,” Dean sighed heavily, shoulders slumping. “He made you. God, that perv! If I hadn’t-”

“Dean, don’t blame yourself. If it wasn’t her -who has us, by the way- then it would’ve been someone else. Someone who doesn’t have us.”

“But it was her!” Dean rounded on Sam. “The only other person aside from you that I  _ cannot  _ live without,” he said between clenched teeth.

“Pretty sure you were planning on killing me tonight,” Sam attempted to lighten the mood. Dean glared daggers at him.

“What did he say?”

Sam shrugged.

“Sam,” he took a step closer with each word. “What. Did. He. Say.”

“I don’t know, Dean. She wouldn’t tell me, I swear.”

“But he scared her?”

“Looked like it. She was pretty pale, man.”

“I’m gonna kill him.”

~~~~~~~~~~

_ Bam. Bam. Bam. _

There was only one man who knocked like that.

“Coming in!” Dean shouted, swinging the door open only to see you wearing his old shirt you stole and no pants. 

_ So much for a warning. _

“Dean!” Mouthwash spray covered the tiny mirror above your sink, the minty liquid dripping down your chin. “You coulda waited a half second. Jeez.”

“Pants, y/n! You live with men! How many times do I have to tell you,” he said, unable to look away. He loved seeing you in his shirt. Granted, he didn’t know you had stolen that particular AC/DC shirt until this moment. That thought was short lived the moment his eyes made it to your legs.  _ Those legs.  _ He just knew they would be silky smooth to the touch. His fingers twitched.

“ _ My _ room, Dean! I don’t have to wear pants if I don’t want to in my own room! Behind a closed door!” You shouted back at him, not caring about being half naked. It’s not like this was the first time and you doubted it would be the last. Plus, you liked that he couldn’t help but stare at your legs. “Maybe you should learn manners!”

“Manners?” His face scrunched in confusion, now looking you in the eye. Clearly, he had no idea what you were talking about.

“Nothing,” you sighed, knowing he hadn’t heard a word you said as you wiped the mouthwash off your chin. You were tired, just wanted to go to bed, and really didn’t want to deal with Mr. Grumpy-pants.

That sigh broke Dean’s heart. He didn’t know why, he just knew in his gut it was more than a simple sigh. Something had happened at the bar and he was too busy getting drinks to notice. If something had happened to you, he wouldn’t have been able to forgive himself. Quietly he stepped over to you, wrapped his arms tight around your body, bringing you into his chest and loving the feel of your curves, but he needed to know what the creep had said to you.

“Why didn’t you scream, or yell, or shout? Why didn’t you call for me?” Dean said into your hair, his voice rough.

“Wha-” You pushed against his chest to pull away, but that only made him hold onto you even tighter.

“That creep-”

“Ugh. Sam.”

“He was worried about you. Don’t be mad at him,” he paused to keep himself from admitting why Sam really told him. “What happened.” It wasn’t a question. It was never a question when Dean asked anything he felt he needed to know.

“Nothing, Dean. It’s over. I’m fine,” you choked out trying to keep the tears at bay. That creep wasn’t just a creep. He was a monster. Not the weird, supernatural kind. Not the kind you were used to ganking, but the kind that preyed on women. The kind that hunts women for fun and games just to torture them. The kind that left a deeper emotional scar than any physical scar could ever make.

_ “Mmm, you smell delicious,” he whispered, smiling with a cruel glint in his eye. “I bet you taste even better than you smell, darlin’.” _

_ You shivered. _

_ “You cold?” He chuckled. “Don’t worry, I’ll warm you right up. I’ll rub you in all the right places and make you feel oh,” he licked your ear, “so,” his wet tongue stroked again in front of your ear, “good,” he nibbled your earlobe. _

_ Frozen, you felt all blood drain down to your feet. _

_ “And if not tonight,” he sniffed your hair again. “Then soon. I promise.” _

Dean felt you shaking in his arms. “Hey, hey, hey,” he whispered. “I’m right here, sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

Those words. Those two simple words are what caused you to cry out, your knees giving out from beneath you.

“Whoa, what’s wrong?” Dean panicked, sinking to the floor with you, turning you in his arms to cradle you. “Y/n, it’s okay. I’m here,” he rocked you back and forth as he gently shushed you, attempting to calm you down. 

The more you cried, the more Dean wanted to go kill the guy. Each sniffle. Each wracking sob. Every time you shook in his arms. What had the guy said? What could have possibly hurt you like this? He had never seen you cry. Not like this. Maybe a few tears for the kids you guys couldn’t save, but never this heart-wrenching. Never had he not been able to make you smile after a hard day. A hard hunt. But this. . . he didn’t know what to do when you were like this. He didn’t know how to make it better.

“What can I do, sweetheart? How can I make it better?” Dean croaked out, still rocking you. 

You shook your head, snuggling into his chest. Your sad attempt at hiding.

“How can I make it go away? Tell me, please, y/n. Tell me and I’ll make it all better,” he begged, wishing you would open up.

After a while, the tears dried up and the shaking stopped, and you whispered, your broken voice barely audible. “He promised.”

Dean stiffened, his mind reeling. He knew what you meant. Really, he did. He just wanted to be wrong. “Promised what,” he ground out.

“T-t-to, to make me. . .”

“Don’t,” he said. “You don’t have to say it.”

“He licked my ear,” you whispered, snuggling deeper into him.

“I’m gonna kill him.” Dean stood up with you in his arms and set you down on your bed before turning away to get Sam. They were going to teach that monster a lesson.

“No! Please, don’t leave me. Stay with me,” you begged, grabbing his arm, your red-rimmed eyes still glassy from the tears.

“Always,” he caved, unable to say no to you. Especially in the state you were in. 

Tomorrow, Dean vowed. Tomorrow he would find the monster responsible for your tears. He would find him, and he would pay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: THANKS SO MUCH FOR READING! I hope you liked it :)

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: ONE MORE CHAPTER! I hope you are enjoying it so far!


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